


What Once Was Love, Love is No More.

by animationisart



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Character of Color, M/M, The Noldor, poc elves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3275798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animationisart/pseuds/animationisart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tale of Thranduil and his Queen, how they came to be, and how they fell apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aranel - Quenya for Princess

    “Nassëtelëa! Nassëtelëa, Father and Mother want you in court! The guards have been looking for you for hours!” Ealasaid climbed through the trees to try to find her sister. The bottom of her dress was snagging on every branch in sight. She saw her sister kneeling down with a large spider as though she was having a conversation with the thing. She was wrapping an infected wound on the spiders front leg. She was speaking softly to the creature, giving it comfort.

    “I told them that I would not be attending court today. I have more pressing things to do.” She leaned in and kissed the spider atop its head and watched it scurry away. She stood to meet her sisters gaze.

    “Oh yes, tending to spider wounds. I’m sure your future husband will love that. I hear they’re having a real spider problem in the Mirkwood.”  

    “Perhaps if they spent the time to speak with them they would not have so many misunderstandings.” Ealasaid shook her head in disapproval.

    “Please come with me sister. I cannot go back on my own, father will have my head. And you have so little time left here. Everyone is sure to miss you."

    “None shall miss me but you my dear sister. They have all had more than enough of me I assure you.”

    “If you did not go on such wild adventures and ate like a lady perhaps they would like you more. And if you were not so harsh during conversation.”

    “And if I dress like a perfect Princess and only talk about dresses and horses maybe my new husband will like me too. You are utterly brilliant! I never thought of that before!” Nassëtelëa rolled her eyes as she stood and crossed her arms. Her sister looked absolutely exhausted with her and she sighed.

    “I will stay for no more than five minutes.” Her sister softened her brow. She grabbed Nassëtelëa by her arm and practically started to drag her out of the forest. That’s all anyone had done recently, drag her out of her forest. She hated being present at court, she hated the whole affair. They should have picked her sister to do this silly, frivolous life. She tried to note all the positive things about her home. The city was illuminated beautifully, made of strong trees. Sometimes she forgot how beautiful it was because of all the people in it. All of them picking and prodding her. Royalty doesn’t pick their teeth, what will the Sindar think of such an unruly girl? She must sit up straight, they will think she has a deformity.

    She cared little for what her future husband would think of her. It was arranged since birth, something rarely done by Sindar elves. They married for love traditionally. Her ancestors did not think of love the same way. Many Ñoldor elves had taken another wife after their first passed. She could not imagine that their love was that deep if they could just remarry at will. But this was not for love, this was for her people. She had been told of Sauron coming, the need for an alliance with the Sindar. Although they needed Ñoldor far more than they needed them. They were far away from the nonsense of Middle Earth. But they needed more troops and they were willing to push their wedding sooner to make the alliance.

    Thranduil. That was his name. She had never even met him, never spoken with him. They could not speak the same languages. He could not speak Quenya or Quendya, and she could not speak Sindar, Silvan, or Westron. That was her parents doing once they found her to be shrewish. They described her like a viper and would prefer her husband not know until it was too late to undo the treaty. She had heard he was fair and beautiful. She knew that was prized in those lands, her mother hailing from them and fair herself. She was neither of those things. She was darker skinned, even more so than her sisters because she was always out in the sun. Her eyes were dark, her hair was dark, her skin was like the earth. No Sindar elf would ever call her beautiful, she was the opposite of beauty. She was clearly of Ñoldor, none could deny it.

    She walked back with her sister with far more ease than her sister, trailing behind her. Nassëtelëa could never understand the feminine fascination with dresses, especially when presented with pants. They gave her no trouble. Her mother had tried to give her lessons on how to properly walk in a dress. She walked suitably well in her opinion. She could be in touch with her feminine side when she wanted to be, she just hardly ever wanted it. Her mother thought propriety was everything, but then again she was just like her Sindar relatives.

    They walked into the great hall with their parents seated at the end. Her mothers face contorted in anger. Her father looked incredibly amused. He raised an eyebrow to his eldest daughter. The High King of Ñoldor was always amused when his daughter strode into his court in pants, with all the confidence he had raised her to have. The future High Queen. He had watched his wife try and groom his daughter, make her a perfect elf. He had also watch her fail miserably and it entertained him immensely.

    “And what do you think you are doing young lady?” The Queen eyed her daughter angrily. Nassëtelëa's smile became wide as she saw the slight smile upon her father’s face. She bowed slowly.

    “I am entering my father’s court, as requested.”

    “You will not be permitted to wear yourself thus in the Mirkwood court.”

    “Then I shall enjoy my time now while I still can.” Her mother looked as though she was going to lose her composure. Gil-Galad put his hand on his wife’s and she looked at him fondly. Nassëtelëa felt wounded. Her parents were going to sell her like cattle. She may never know the feeling that her parents shared. She would meet the Prince soon enough and would find her fate. Away to the glamour that Ealasaid had always longed for. Nassëtelëa bowed and turned, her cloak flapping behind her. She ignored the line of bowing as she always did and made her way towards her rooms.

 

    “You know that I loathe to bother you my dear friend but she arrives soon.” Thranduil paced around the room. He felt an odd feeling in his chest, nerves. He had not felt this way since he signed the papers to engage them. Eternity was starting to wear on him, young as he was. He always came to Elrond to guide him when he did not feel confident sharing his worries with his parents. She would be there within a month. He had heard nothing of her except that she was considered a great beauty and was to be the next High Queen of the Elves. And that they would not be able to speak. He had been studying to speak with her for years, but his accent was still clunky and awkward. He was embarrassed to speak any tongue so poorly.

    “It is no problem your majesty.” He took some of his drink and looked at the young Prince. He never saw the Prince pace and filled with nerves. Thranduil was always poised, it was something he prided himself upon. Thranduil gave his father’s friend a small smile, his signature smirk. He continued to pace around the room slowly and deliberately. He had much to think on. How he would greet her, what he would say. He wanted to plan everything to the last detail. He was a planner and he didn’t like the variable that she presented to him. He knew logically that he could not predict everything she was going do or say, how she would react.

    “What if she hates me?”

    Elrond smiled. The Prince was more insecure than he let on and it was a little endearing but also foolish. Half of the kingdom was smitten with him. Any woman around his age would gladly trade places with the Ñoldor Princess in an instant. Everyone in the kingdom knew that except perhaps the Prince himself.

    “Have you ever known a maiden to hate you?”

    “I am hoping she sees more than they do. More than my crown, more than my looks."

    “Then she shall certainly hate you. You like order, my dear Prince. I hear she is chaos itself.” He raised his brow to Elrond. Elrond had not meant to let the Prince he knew more about his bride to be than he let on. He had met her before, seeing what kind of girl she was.

    “You know of her?” Elrond sighed deeply.

    “I have met her.”

    “And you failed to mention-"

    “At the request of her mother I’m afraid.”

    “I don’t think I need to make it clear to you where your loyalties lie.”

    “I did not meet her for very long. She was quite outspoken and very willful. She does not like social functions and she has a very sharp wit about her.”

    “They say she is beautiful.” He looked out the window pensively.

    “She was.” Thranduil turned, crossing his arms.

    “Elves usually love each other when they wed.”

    “Perhaps you two will fall in love. There is always hope.”

 

    Nassëtelëa sat in the group, camped about three days from the Mirkwood. Her lady Keera was brushing her hair. Nassëtelëa hadn’t much sleep over the last few months traveling towards the wood. She didn’t trust her guard to look out for threats at night. She also couldn’t help but think about her impending doom. When she was young she had dreamed that Thranduil would be her perfect Prince, that they would love each other. That they would spend eternity in bliss. But as she grew she learned more of the world and realized what a slim chance there was of that. Even the Silvan elves she had met looked at her with disgust, whispering about her when she could even see them. She knew that the racism was strong in those lands. If her mother could have traded her at birth for a beautiful babe like Ealasaid she would have in an instant. She had heard the servants gossip about how horrified her mother had been when she gave birth to her.

    “What if he hates me?” She whispered to Keera. The girl rolled her eyes at her Princess.

    “No one could ever hate you, your majesty. You’re intelligent, adventurous, beautiful, witty. Any man would be foolish not to realize you are the perfect gem. Any man should consider himself lucky to have even a glance from you.”

    “You need not aggressively compliment me. I have no delusions about who I really am. I’m aggressive, outspoken. I’m too daring. I’m not what the Sindar like in their women.”

    “You have no idea what they like in their women. You know what your mother likes in their women, not what the Prince likes.”

    “We’re taught since birth that appearance is everything. When I arrive in court in trousers they will all look at me like my mother does.”

    “Or they will respect that no intelligent woman would travel such a long distance in a dress.”

    “They do not understand anything about clothing from what I can tell. Why must they always wear grey? They all look at me like I’m mad for wearing yellow or anything with a hue.”

    “I did not say they were stylish. I said they may be practical. I’ve seen many of their women wearing trousers.”

    “Not royal women. And we have mostly only seen Silvan elves. You must know that they are not the same by the time we get there. The Sindar are the blonde ones with grey eyes. The Silvan are the ones with darker hair.”

    “The Sindar rule the Silvan. I can remember everything that they taught me when you appointed me your lady.” Nassëtelëa smiled as Keera took her top braids down and continued to comb her. It was always relaxing at the end of a long day traveling on horseback. She would have killed a thousand orcs for a bath at this point, especially one where she didn’t have men surrounding her to “protect her”. She did not like all of the codling that the Sindar forced on her. And she knew her father encouraged it so she wouldn’t be tempted to flee.

    “Besides, _Aranel_. Everyone knows they cannot make anything grand. Their craft is poor. Perhaps that is why everything here is grey.”

    “Do not let them hear you say that. They are still very sore about things that should have been buried long ago.”

    “They are lucky that their voices sound of the heavens themselves. Otherwise they would be unbearable. They are far too proud for my taste.”

    “Keera! You must use caution. We know not who can speak our language and who cannot. I hear the Prince has been studying. You must only speak thus when we are alone.”

    “Yes, of course. Forgive me _Aranel_.” Nassëtelëa nodded and laid herself down. She did not care if Keera spoke harsh truths about her future home, her future people. She too had spoken ill of them, sometimes constantly. But she could not lose Keera. She was the only thing she would be able to keep from her home. They would dress her in grey clothes. They would braid her hair like theirs. They would even try to bleach her features if at all possible. Perhaps she would let them. She grew weary of looking at her face in the mirror, seeing what she and her mother despised.

 

    She could see the gates and she almost let out a cry of gratitude. She had arrived early, but she was gladdened by the sight of the dull walls. Her behind was sore, she was beginning to smell. And she had always hated riding horses. She didn’t mind the horses. She often bonded with them, but had little desire to get back on them. They were not comfortable, nor were they the fastest of Middle Earths creatures. When they arrived at the gate she slid off the horse, waving off any attempt to help her down. The guards bowed and allowed her in, the party following behind as she strode through the city towards the palace. A blonde man stood at the entrance, bowing before her.

    “Your majesty. It is an honor to have you. If you will just follow me to your rooms-“

    “I must greet the King and Queen before I do any such thing. It is disrespectful in my home to not be immediately presented to the royal court.” The man bowed to her, and changed his direction immediately to lead her to the court. She quickly opened the door and strode through, as though it was her father’s court. At the end of bowing rows sat the King and Queen, beautiful and fair. She bent down upon her knee and bowed to them.

    “Oropher, King of the Greenwood Great, and Gilan, Queen of the Greenwood Great. I apologize for my state of dress. My father always said to me that it is the greatest politeness to greet the sovereign before seeing to one’s own needs and desires.” Oropher looked down at the young Princess, surprised by her nerve. He did not know how to respond to the audacity of this young woman. But she was as beautiful as they had said, and twice as bold.

    “We are honored to meet you at last. Please rise,” Gilan said softly. Oropher smiled at her and reminded himself how lucky he was to have her by his side.  Nassëtelëa slowly stood and looked into the eyes of the woman she would be forced to call mother. But she did not look as frightening as she had imagined. She had a soft brow, a pleasing face. She did not have the anger that her mother did. She looked kind and soft. Her hair was slightly darker than her husbands, with a slight curl to it. Her husband looked more hardened, but when he looked at his wife he softened. She sighed in relief.

    “We were not told of your arrival. I’m afraid that our son is not here at this moment. Please, go to your chambers. We will call upon you later, Princess, Nassëtelëa. We thank you for your manners.”  Nassëtelëa tried to bow in the most feminine way she could to the King, but she strode out with all the presence of a Queen.

    Gilan leaned into catch her husbands ear. His face did not alter as her lips grazed the tip of his ear and she moved down to whisper into it.

    “We must alert our son. She is the one, there is no doubt now. Our son will be happy and our halls will be filled with grandchildren soon.”

    “I hope that is true. If they do not marry, Gil-Galad has decided no assistance against Mordor will be necessary.”

    “I know that you worry. But surely elves, dwarves, and humans cannot all be defeated by Orcs. He will send aid. Our son will fall in love with her.”

    “You like to test your skills as matchmaker. I fear you may see only as you wish to see. Our son likes predictability.”

    “She is very predictable. You must only wait to see it my love. Send someone to get Thranduil from the wood. He must greet her this evening and he will want to start fretting immediately.” Oropher smiled at that finally, and called for his guard to find his son.

 

    Thranduil strode back and forth in the wood, mumbling to himself. He was trying to get his accent right, trying not to make a fool of himself. Even her name was a mouthful. To say hello to one’s future wife is one of the smallest pleasantries that most people enjoyed. How had it come to pass that she hadn’t learned any of the languages she would need? He would be sure to ask her when they became more acquainted. If he could talk to her without making a fool of himself.

    The Prince turned once more and looked down at the book. Some words were similar, some words were not. He wished desperately that he had been old enough to learn it as a cradle tongue. But he knew that when he said her name, he had to say it right, no matter how many damned syllables it was. Another turn. Another word. Turn and a sentence. He wished he had invited Elrond to practice with. He turned again and saw a guard sprinting towards him, in an almost panicked fashion.

    “What word? What is wrong?” Thranduil stepped towards him, worrying that the Orcs had advanced faster than they had thought, or perhaps more spiders terrorizing the wood elsewhere.

    “Nothing is wrong, your majesty. I have come to tell you that the Princess has arrived. The King and Queen bid you return as soon as possible.” Thranduil nodded but there was a storm inside him. She was supposed to be there a week from the day, not now. The only thing that was predictable about her was how unpredictable she was. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t be ready.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Languages in order with definitions :) Please enjoy
> 
> Quenya:  
> mírë - precious thing or precious one, like a jewel  
> Tári - Queen  
> Vanya elyë, Aranel - You are beautiful, Princess
> 
> Sindarin:  
> Len suilon. Im Nassëtelëa eston. Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn - Hello. My name is Nassëtelëa. A star shines on the hour of our meeting.
> 
> Khuzdul (or Dwarf):  
> Vemu, Thanu men - Hello, my King  
> Menu gamut ked! - You are a wonderful person!  
> Menu ziramu gimidul, menu sigim bundul - You forge with the ancients, you are greater than words.

Every man with white hair and grey eyes made her look twice. Is that him? Or could that be? She tried to find someone that looked like his parents, but they all looked so similar to her. No matter how many halls she went down she kept trying to figure out if any of them were him. But they kept bowing to her so she assumed not. He would not bow to a Gnome. No Sindar bowed to any Noldor except her father. At least not any of their royalty felt it was necessary.

    Her room wasn’t colorful. The light from the sun was the most light that she got, all of the lanterns starting to shine in the distance. The room was dull, with a large bed in the middle. There were light floral patterns embroidered into the bed. She could appreciate the quality, but so much of her wondered if any of them had actually made it, or if they had bought it. Perhaps from some dwarves. She had always longed to see something made by dwarves. She had read so much about them.

    She noticed a small bookshelf and she picked one of them up. They were all in Quenya, something she hadn’t expected. A few were in the Ñoldor dialect that was widely spoken in her home. She looked at the selections and was interested in reading all of them. She wondered who picked the books for her room, thinking it might be the Queen. Although she probably won’t waste her time doing such things.

    Keera helped remove her travel clothing so she could get in a bath. The door opened and she quickly made a move to cover herself. It was a woman with brown hair who bowed deeply before rising. She looked afraid and tired. Nassëtelëa doubted the girl was old enough to know any Quenya so she sighed in exasperation. They couldn’t have found her an old woman from her mother tongue? She felt astounded by their coldness and lack of respect for her.

    “Your majesty, they have sent me to help your lady in waiting.” Keera sighed with relief when she found that the girl could speak Quenya. Her accent was lovely and pleasing, surprising for one that did not learn Quenya as a cradle tongue. It was usually far more difficult for Silvan elves, and especially Sindar elves to learn her language.

    “How much of our language to you speak?”

    “I’m almost fluent now. But there are few that I have to practice with."

    “But you will understand when I tell you to stop? Or when I wish for you to leave?"

    “Of course your majesty. I would go now if you wish, but the Queen has advised me against such behavior.” There was a small smile from the girl and Nassëtelëa let down her guard and her clothes. Keera started to help her wash her hair, as she started to scrub the filth from her skin. She started to feel normal, but watched warily as the girl walked across to her bed, laying out clothes for her to step into.

    “Do you know Prince Thranduil?” The girl laughed and then turned to the Princess.

    “Aye, I do. I was his babysitter for quite a long time. Now I am just another servant to his mother, helping her wash her hair and put her jewelry on. Forgotten, and unseen as many of us Silvan are."

    “They are cruel to you?”

    “They are not cruel. They just consider themselves better than all."

    “I know as much. My mother is one of them.” The girl raised her eyebrows to that as she continued about her business, looking through the Princess’ dresses to find one appropriate for her evening. An evening that Nassëtelëa was wary of.

    “So… is he like the others then? Like his father or his mother?”

    “He is not much like either. He does not care for the King’s rules. He contradicts many of his fathers orders and decrees. He spends an increasing amount of time in the wood of late. Takes a book with him. He used to spend more of his time sparring."

    “Bow or sword?” She pretended to be aloof and disinterested in him in general. But she wasn’t very talented at masking her emotions. The girl smiled.

    “Sword, your majesty. They say he is one of the greatest with the sword.”

    “Pity. The bow is better, strategic. I could beat him with my eyes closed with a silly sword.” The girl almost laughed at the thought of Prince Thranduil on his ass, beaten by this foreign Princess who was to be his bride.

    “He should be back soon. I doubt you will see him until your welcoming this evening. His parents will want to make it an affair.”

    “I already was welcomed by his parents. I need no more."

    “No, your majesty. There must be a feast. There will be Kings of all races here to welcome you and offer gifts and tribute.”

    “I need no such thing. Can you please pass that on to their majesties?"

    “I could but they would not listen. All of the guests are already here. They’re probably frantic in the kitchen. You were not supposed to arrive until next week."

    “I did not wish to remain on one of those retched creatures a moment longer. I will not ride slow like a proper lady just to please others. The sooner we wed, the sooner it’s all over. No more politics. I’ll let him handle that."

    “And what do you think you will be doing, _mírë_? You think that he will allow you to spend all of your days in the wood? A _Tári_ takes just as much part in politics, if not more,” Keera scoffed.

    “I imagine he will leave me be if I remain constantly with child. They will all let me do as I wish, perhaps at least go for walks. And if I pretend that I never learned any of their languages, they will all have to leave me out of the decision making. I’m sure the Prince is more than capable."

    “You cannot wish him utter misery. I know you have not met him, but you understand what court is like, do you not?” The girl asked, perplexed.

    “Of course I know what court is like. Hence why I have stayed away from them all these years. My mother making me sit in on them was torture.”

    “So think about how it will be for him. Without you on his side,” Keera said lightly. Nassëtelëa hadn’t thought of what it would be, to be alone. Have a spouse by your side who never helped, who never counseled. Who never cared. Even in a place where one knows everyone, where one can speak to all in their domain. She couldn’t help but think about how lonely it would be, to never speak to anyone. To never tell him her opinion of others. Could they be companions? Could they ever like one another? Feel anything?

    She allowed herself to be taken out of the bath and put into a light gown as she pondered more about the Prince she was soon to meet. The fair and handsome man that she would wed, within a very few years time. A blink to them. A blink to even humans. They would hardly even know one another by the time they wed. She tried to plan what she was going to say, rehearsing the only line she knew in Sindar. Should she bow to him? No, she had to remind herself that they were of the same stature.

 

    He could not turn back and forth as he started to get dressed. He could not decide what clothes were best, what was appropriate. What would impress. He could not control the raging storm. How would they do this? How would they meet in the middle of a crowded room and pretend that they weren’t terrified? And how horrible he felt for her. She would be in a room where she knew no one and very few would be on her side. He knew of the racism that lingered in the halls. He knew the anger that was still there between the Sindar and the Ñoldor. So much grey in his wardrobe. She would not be impressed by all the grey when there were so many colors in her life. But he had no choice.

    She tried to pick something that wouldn’t blind him. Most of her clothes were brightly hued, and far more revealing than any Sindar she had seen. She had picked a brightly colored red dress of lace that was reminiscent of flowers. It was very see through and the back was open. But she was there to impress and she would. She knew she would be in a room against her, where there would only be one sure person on her side. And she wanted to impress him as best she could. She was terrified, but she tried to keep a stiff upper lip. Keera placed her small gold tiara on her head.

    “ _Vanya elyë, Aranel_ ,” Keera said gently to her. Nassëtelëa adjusted her hair once more in hopes that she did not look as foolish as she felt. Dressing up so nicely for a man she had never met, and at best would be allies with. At worst he would hate her. Or rape her when they were wed. She tried to keep those thoughts out of her head now. She had to try to keep her positivity. She had to try and and trust him, trust that he meant her no harm. They were in the same situation, at the very least.

    

    He waited for her in the grand hall with his parents on their thrones. It was killing him that he couldn’t pace, that he couldn’t even tap his foot. He went over what he would say in his head over and over, hoping that it would sound all right. He had tried with his mother earlier and she had said he was doing very well. But it wasn’t well enough for his liking. He could do nothing but stand as he saw Kings from many different peoples come into the hall to await her arrival as well. There would be a glorious feast, and then they would present gifts to her.

    When he looked towards the door again he saw her standing there. She was more beautiful than he ever could have imagined. Her hair was dark and shown in the light. Her eyes were dark and pulled him into them as she stared at him. He felt as though he was holding his breath as she walked towards him. She moved with grace. Her dress was so different from anything he had ever seen, a captivating red that made her skin glow in the lights. She was nothing like he expected.

    Her heart was beating rapidly as she approached him, trying to watch her footing so she did not trip and make a fool of herself in front of all these people. She looked to her left and right with her eyes, noticing dwarves and men. She had seen humans before and they still smelled as ever. She tried not to pay too much attention to anyone on either side. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying not to settle on him. He was handsome and grand. Not as pale as his father, his hair had more color to it. He wore all grey, she had expected that. But he made grey look… desirable. She had never saw a man that she thought was so beautiful. They were all pretty, not hard to look at. But none of them were striking in the way that he was.

    Both of their hearts were pounding in their ears as she finally got to the end of the hall and stood before him. How she wished that it could have been a small private affair. She bowed her head a bit as she looked into his eyes. They were grey, like everything else in the castle. But they had flecks of blue and other colors in them.

    “ _Len suilon. Im Nassëtelëa eston.  Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn_ ,” she tried not to stumble over the words as she looked at him. He was surprised how her accent was almost perfect for someone who did not speak the language. He gave a small smile and bowed his head. She smiled back, although it was shy and small as well.

    “It is a pleasure to meet you at last. It has been far too long to wait,” he took her hand and brought it to his lips. She felt this odd feeling that she hadn’t expected and almost ripped her hand from his grasp. It was warm and felt so foreign to her. She noticed that his accent was pleasing and light. She wished they could speak, perhaps freely. He gestured for her to follow him towards his parents and she felt less intimidated when she didn’t have to look directly at him. His gaze made her feel uncomfortable and she couldn’t quite place why. He tried not to look at her to long for fear that she would catch him staring.

    “The feasting shall commence at once, in celebration of our future daughter finally arriving in the Greenwood. Everyone, to your seats,” Oropher announced in Westron. She could not understand a single word and looked at Thranduil with pleading eyes. He gave a small smile. He leaned in a bit to get closer.

    “We are going to our seats. Father said that we are celebrating your arrival in the Greenwood.” He motioned for her to follow and she followed carefully behind. A servant pulled out their chairs and she sat beside him, trying to avoid his gaze. He could see her well enough in his peripheral vision, which he was grateful for. He could see how nervous she looked as all of the others surrounded them. Next to her sat a Dwarf King, who he noticed she was trying not to stare at. On the other side of Thranduil was his father, and across from him was his mother. She looked at the food warily.

    “Does any of this food have meat in it?” she whispered to him carefully. They made eye contact again and her eyes jolted to his hand instead. His rings were very pretty she noticed. Well…. he was very pretty. He smiled at her and nodded.

    “Don’t worry I’ll help you,” he snapped his fingers for one of the servants and started speaking to him in Silvan. She started to fidget nervously, until she saw the dwarf next to her. She sighed in relief, a language she actually knew!

    “ _Vemu, Thanu men_. Can you find me some alcohol? I’m going to need it."

    “A royal elf who can speak to dwarves! What a wonderful day this is! How did it come to pass that you can speak to dwarves but not to most elves among us, nor the humans?” The dwarf passed a large bottle of ale to her, which she took gratefully. She smiled a wide, happy smile when he actually spoke back to her. Thranduil noticed that she could speak with the dwarves, something that he was not very good at himself. Their language had not interested him, so he had not learned much of it. And the smile on her face drew him to look closer at her and the small man beside her.

    “My mother thinks me a shrew, so she took away my ability to speak to my husband, and my future people in the process. Make sure he wouldn’t change his mind. Lovely woman she is. If I never see her again it will be a blessing. But she never said anything about my learning Khuzdul. So I learned as much as I could.” She tried to take a large swig without anyone noticing, but the dwarf and Thranduil did.

    “ _Menu gamut khed_! Long may you reign over the Ñoldor and the Greenwood!” He raised his glass and she smiled. She looked down at her food and back at Thranduil.

    “You speak dwarfish?” He seemed amused when he asked and she nodded slightly, “Don’t eat that.” He warned her as she was about to take a bite of something. She looked at him in confusion.

    “Why, is there meat in it?” He smiled and shook his head.

    “No, it just tastes disgusting.” She smiled brightly for him and he noticed it had been a bit bigger a smile then when she spoke with the dwarf she had taken to.

    “Nothing here looks familiar to me, so I suppose I shall have to trust your judgement.” She decided to choose something else as Thranduil took some of his wine. Both of them needed to take the edge off. She noticed how he looked out of the corner of her eye. Nervous, just as she was. She was terrified of saying the wrong thing to him, or anyone else.

    “Your dress is very beautiful Nassētelëa. Are they popular in Lindon?” The Queen asked from across the table. Nassëtelëa smiled at her gratefully for a distraction that she had an easy answer to.

    “They are very popular. My sister loves this style of dress. Since Ealasaid started wearing them, they became the fashion. So I will wear this until she decides we all must wear something else I suppose.” She felt a pang of loss talking about Ealasaid. Her sisters were so far away now, and it was likely that she would never see them again. Wilwarin was still so small, she was not even 50 yet. And she and Ealasaid had bonded over their many years, although they had been so different in temperament. She tried not to show how it pained her to speak of her sisters, she tried to focus on her eating. Thranduil had remembered hearing of her sisters. He wondered how she felt longing for her siblings. He never had any, so he wondered how saddened she was by leaving them.

    She watched the dwarf eat without any care in the world, throwing things as he pleased, stuffing his face. How she wished she could eat like that. These tiny bites were doing nothing for her stomach that was pained with hunger. And the wine was hitting her like a ton of bricks to the head. She hadn’t been there for more than a few hours and she was already in agony over all the protocol, all the manners. She hated them with a passion. It wasn’t easy to be beautiful and proper all the time. She wished she had been born a dwarf instead.

    The Queen enjoyed watching the tension between the two unfold. Her son could not keep his eyes off her, and the poor girl was trying desperately not to look back at him. She knew that her son would be intrigued by her, and fall in love with her quickly. The small smiles they shared were not much to many onlookers, small courtesies. But the Queen knew how to read her son, and he was very much interested in his bride to be. And the Princess was nervous, but clearly attracted to the young Prince. She had looked as though she would jump from her skin when he kissed her hand.

 

   The King and Queen remained on their thrones as Nassëtelëa was seated on a makeshift throne, with Thranduil next to her. She felt very nervous to receive anything, but there was a translator there for her to use. She sat with one leg crossed over the other. She tried not to wring her hands, although she had already started to nervously. Thranduil saw that she too hard nervous habits and he grabbed one of her hands in his. The look he gave her reassured her, and she smiled at him. He is on your side. You are not alone. A human approached her and started speaking as he held a chest.  She waited politely as he spoke, and continued to hold Thranduil’s warm hand until the translator started to speak.

    “Your majesty, the King of Rohan would like to offer you these humble gifts to you from his kingdom. He wishes to convey that one of the items was hand crafted by his own wife, in hopes that you would enjoy and cherish it.” The chest was opened, and lying on top of a large cloth, embroidered with beautiful flowers was a crystal dagger, made with a beautiful metal handle. She took out the blanket to look at the detailing a little closer, and in Elvish the human Queen had stitched: Long may you reign. She held the dagger and appreciated how fine it was.

    “Please tell your wife that she must have the most delicate hands and most patient temperament to make me something so beautiful. I will cherish it always. And the dagger is beautiful, I thank you for such a beautiful and useful gift. My thanks to the people of Rohan.” She waited for the translator to relay her message and the King looked very pleased. He bowed, and one of the servants took the chest away. The King of Gondor had sent her a pair of Elven-birds, that would mate for life. She kissed them both upon the head before they were taken from her. She knew that animals may be her only comfort. She smiled as the Dwarf approached her with a chest as well.

    “The King of the Iron Hills would like to present his gift unto you. It was crafted by his finest craftsmen in the hope of creating a long and lasting friendship with the elves of Ñoldor and the Woodland Realm.” She slowly opened the box and gasped in awe. There was a necklace made of gold and turquoise, more beautiful than any jewelry she had ever owned. And there was a tiara for her made of the most precious silver for her new reign as Princess of these woods. She smiled in glee at the dwarf king.

    “ _Menu ziramu gimidul, menu sigim bundul_. I look forward to a long and prosperous friendship with the Dwarves of the Iron Hills. Your gift is so beautiful, I wish you send my sincerest thanks and praise to your craftsmen. And of course, I am truly awed by you giving me such a beautiful gift. Long may you reign, my friend.” The dwarf king got all red in the face and bowed to her before the chest was taken away. She was given many other gifts that she lost track of, including horses and other fineries. She tried to express as much gratitude from one person to the next, but all who watched knew the dwarves had won that night. By the end she was exhausted and as the rest continued to celebrate she began to fall asleep in her chair.

    “May I walk you back to your room. You look as though you are about to fall into slumber and I would hate for you to end up on the floor.” Nassëtelëa looked up at Thranduil who was standing over her. She wondered how he was not a God rather than an elf. He seemed to perfect even to be an elf, and he had a glow about him that seemed almost heavenly to her. She nodded slowly and he started to walk her out of the hall towards her room.  She was at a total loss of what to say, she kept her head down, trying not to make eye contact with him.

    “I have heard of your great beauty, but I was unsure of all the accounts."

    “I’m sorry to disappoint you, I’m certainly not anything special."

    “You’re far too modest. The tales did not do your beauty justice.”

    “You need not aggressively compliment me. We have to wed whether you actually find me beautiful or not.” He looked at her, his head tilted.

    “And what makes you think that I am not attracted to you?"

    “Look at you! I mean you could have your pick of any pretty white haired girl you want if I were not in your way."

    “What do you mean look at me? Have you never seen yourself in a mirror before?"

    “Oh I assure you as a Princess I have been forced to look into a mirror everyday of my entire life. And I have never once liked what I saw.”

    “Perhaps you were just looking the wrong way then. For other than my mother, I have never seen a woman so beautiful.” She turned as they were at her door, starting to get angry with him. Lying would get him no where and she was starting to become exhausted.

    “Lying to me will not get you in my good graces, Prince Thranduil. It infuriates me, and I hear that although you are skilled with your sword, I am far more skilled with the bow."

    “Is that a challenge I hear Princess?” He smiled and laughed. He was so handsome doing so her heart started to beat irregularly and she started to feel uncomfortable again. She started to wring her hands.

    “Perhaps there will be a better time to spar with you. I am far too tired to be of any challenge, even with my superior skills and speed."

    “I will be sure to hold you to your word someday. I have to go to some council meetings in the morning. May I meet you midday?” She looked down before looking back up. She smiled and found that she wouldn’t mind trying to get to know him.

    “I would like that very much.”

    “Until we meet again,” he kissed her hand once again before striding away. She just stood there staring at him leave, holding her hand close to her. The door behind her opened and some hands grabbed her, pulling her inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Keera turned her around, holding her arms lightly, “Well how was it? Was it as bad as you thought?” Nassëtelëa sighed as she handed her tiara over. She jumped onto the bed, landing face first. She groaned and stayed there as Keera took down her braids and smoothed out her hair. She unbuttoned the Princess’ dress. The Princess reluctantly stood and let her take the dress away.

“So how was it? Please tell me they weren’t cruel to you. I will go kick their smug asses.”

“It was… nice. It was different. I got to meet a dwarf. The humans smelled as usual but gave some very thoughtful gifts. And they weren’t unkind to me, but there weren’t as many elves as I thought there would be.” Keera took the gown and helped her into her nightgown. She put the dress away and came back.

“And the Prince? Tell me of him, I long to know! They would not allow us to go so we had to make merry on our own, that new girl and I.”

“He was handsome… beautiful actually. The most gorgeous elf I’ve ever seen in my life. And he was tall.. very tall. And his eyes! I thought they would be boring because they are grey but were fascinating. And he was kind to me.”

“Was he charming? All the servants say that he’s charming.”

“He is I suppose. He kissed my hand twice and he told me I was beautiful.. which means of course he is a liar and I can trust nothing he says.”

“You are beautiful! And if one of the most beautiful men in the world calls you beautiful then you should believe that it’s true. He does not have to lie to you, he already has you.”

“No he does not. He needs this marriage to happen so my father will send troupes. I am no fool Keera, and he will not play me for one.”

“Perhaps you will be surprised, but you are not always right Aranel.” Nassëtelëa sat upon her bed and Keera pulled the blanket over her. She rested her head on her pillow and waved Keera away. For hours she stared at the ceiling. The bed was comfortable and she was exhausted. But the room wasn’t right. She didn’t know how she could sleep in the woods, with men that could not be trusted surrounding her but she couldn’t sleep here. She could sleep with her sisters yelling at her to get up, she could sleep through almost any natural disaster. She missed the canopy around her bed, colored bright yellow. She missed the smells of flowers and the warmth that she felt when she woke. She couldn’t sleep, and she didn’t want to spend precious hours missing her home.

Nassëtelëa got out of the bed and searched through her clothes to find her trousers, shirt, and cloak. She quickly stripped herself and hopped into the clothes. She opened the door and looked around the hall. There weren’t any guards waiting outside, so she grabbed her bow and new dagger. She knew she would have to go down to the kitchen to sneak out the side door. She had asked the new girl earlier when no one was listening. She treaded on the ground quietly, hiding behind the walls when she heard a guard walking down the hall. The two servants in the kitchen were asleep, with their faces on the table. She snuck around them, grabbed some bread, and ran out the door. She ran all the way to the gate where there was actually a guard on duty. He bowed towards her, but moved to stand between her and the door.

“You’re up rather late, aren’t you, your majesty?” The Silvan elf looked at her with a strange gaze that she couldn’t quite grasp. But she raised her chin to him nonetheless.

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern. You will let me go into the wood, and then you will let me back in a few hours from now. Or you and I are going to have a problem. And I warn you, I am an excellent shot.”

“Of course your majesty,” he bowed again and opened the door. She ran down the bridge towards the wood. She could see all of the bugs alight in the night, how some of the plants glowed a beautiful blue. As she got part way into the woods she sighed with content, closing her eyes and feeling the forest around her. All of the birds of the night calling, small animals coming out to feast. She walked in further and sat down, taking the bread in her mouth. She was so relieved when her stomach was beginning to feel satisfied. An owl swooped from the tree and landed near her. It was a beautiful owl, a breed she had never seen in her home. She offered it some bread, which it took and flew away hastily.

She heard a spiders scream and rushed towards it. A spider babe was being attacked by a large bird, who was trying to eat it. She ran and threw herself over the spider, screaming at the bird, which in a panic flew away. She held the spider carefully and looked down at it’s terrified face. The small one was very fuzzy, and about hatchling size for a new spider. And just as predicted, the mother came crawling down from a tree after hearing her child’s screams. Nassëtelëa held up the child, which the mother took gently in her front legs, and then placed it on her head.

“You are safe now little one. Do not stray too far from your mother.” The spider looked at her with gratitude, but also confusion. She bowed to the large spider.

“You are an elf. No elf here has ever saved a spider. They hunt us, they kill our children.”

“I am not from here. I have come from another race of elves, who had a problem with the spiders of our realm. Until found that it was much easier to speak with them, and now there is no longer war between the species of Ñoldor.”

“You have saved my last child that they have not taken from me. I will always serve you. She is my only. I have lost hundreds.”

“I’m afraid I must go now. I will sing out when I am in the forest and I wish to see you. Until then, stay safe. I will try to protect you, I swear,” she turned and started to run back through the wood. As she got to the bridge she could see the sun rising and she ran through the kitchen and the halls without being noticed. She went into her room and sighed in relief, but there Keera was, looking frantic. She let out a small scream in surprise.

“There you are! You cannot sneak off into the night anymore! It is dangerous, you do not know that wood! You could have been killed or gotten lost. And what would I say to your Prince then? Oh she likes to run off into the wood in the night and potentially never come back, sorry I didn’t mention that before!”

“Keera, I am sorry. But I need the wood, I need the freedom. Why can men do as they please while we remain chained? I will not change who I am for any of them. I am tired to trying to make white elves love me, when I cannot even love myself. I want to do things that make me filled with joy, not things that make others merely content.”

“I cannot lie for you! I could be killed or worse! If anything happens to you, I am responsible. I am the only one who knows you, really knows you. If the Sindar do nothing to me, your mother will see my head on a pike for sure.”

“I’m not asking you to lie for me. I’m asking you to sleep during the hours when you should be. If you know nothing, you cannot be in trouble. I’m asking you to do this for me. I cannot be in this castle all day long without any sight of the wood, without the sun in my hair. And I cannot spend all day in dresses.”

“You have to sleep! You will die if you do this every night. Whether something kills you or you die of exhaustion I cannot allow you to do it.”

“It won’t be every night, I promise. I’ll make it more like once a week. And perhaps they will let me go out in the day. But I don’t want to be heavily guarded when I walk through the wood. There is no need for that foolishness. Now hurry, I’m supposed to dress and have breakfast with the Queen.”

“You are unbelievable! Fine, your highness, I will find you a dress to wear. And perhaps I can find you some common sense while I’m at it, since you seem to be in short supply.” The new girl, Tanna, walked in right after Keera said that and started rummaging through her clothes.

“You let your lady talk to you like that?” Nassëtelëa smiled at Tanna picked out some jewelry for her.

“We grew up together. She is more than just a noble’s daughter to me. So she can speak to me however informally she wishes. And she cares for me, more than most of my family members.” Keera rolled her eyes as she picked a light blue dress with the traditional veil that she usually wore. Tanna picked some matching earrings and some gold bracelets. They helped her out of her clothes and into her new ones. Keera added a necklace that matched, and Nassëtelëa felt weighed down from all the jewelry, but she knew that everyone within twenty feet had to know who she was just by looking.

She walked down the halls with Keera and Tanna walked on either side of her. Everyone she came upon in the halls bowed to her, and she nodded her head in turn. She stopped as they came upon where the men would no doubt be meeting. She saw Thranduil walking, his sword at his side, his crown placed lightly on his head. He did not see her, and she was glad for it, for he would see her sheer jealousy and hurt. She had to remind herself that these people were not like her father, who would never dream of meeting without her. She grudgingly walked away with her ladies, towards a smaller private room, which she was grateful for. The Queen was wearing a simple white dress and her hair was up in a lazy bun. Nassëtelëa bowed to her, but Gilan waved her hand in protest.

“Do not bow to me when we are in private, my dear. You will be my daughter soon and there is no need for it. Please sit, your ladies can go about their morning duties.” Nassëtelëa sat nervously as one of the Queen’s servants pulled out her chair. She felt overdressed now that she saw the Queen, but she had to remind herself that the culture was different. Her mother wouldn’t let her go to breakfast in anything less than full dress. The servants started to surround them, bringing food and tea.

“You look very beautiful this morning. I will never stop admiring the dresses of your people. And your jewelry is beautiful.”

“It’s quite heavy to be honest. I think my mother buys the heaviest jewels she can just to make me suffer.” She took a sip of her tea carefully.

“That would not surprise me, knowing your mother. When we were negotiating the marriage between our people years ago she tried everything to make sure your sister married our son. But your father would not hear a word of it, and neither would I. She had no right.”

“You knew my mother?” She tried to hide how hurt she felt. After all these years her mother could still hurt her, no matter how much she tried to numb herself. She knew she loved Ealasaid more. She always had, and she had made sure that everyone knew it. But she tried to take away her birthright, and sell her sister. To a man Ealasaid would no doubt paint as the most perfect man on earth no matter what he was like, just because he was beautiful.

“We grew up together. Everyone knew her. I remember when she fell in love with your father. I couldn’t believe that she was marrying him. He was a wonderful man, but it didn’t seem in her character to forget about race. And I was right, but she channeled it through you, I’m sorry to say. But you are welcome here, and I hope that you will trust me to help you.” Gilan took some of her tea, and passed some bread towards Nassëtelëa. She took some and tried not to shove it into her mouth. Gilan touched Nassëtelëa’s hand and took it into her hands.

“Please do not fear me child. I will give you anything that it is within my power to give.”

“May I go to war meetings? I was always allowed at home. I know that I can help, if given the opportunity. I just need a push from… from someone more powerful like you.”

“Done. We need someone who knows all about your father’s army. I’ll talk to Oropher today. I’m sure he’ll invite you personally to the next one. Anything else I can do for you?” Gilan gave her a wide smile and Nassëtelëa returned a small smile.

“Convince everyone that women wearing pants if perfectly intelligent.” Gilan laughed and shook her head as she took some more food.

“I’ve been trying for my entire life. Hasn’t caught on. You should convince your sister to wear them and then we all will be able to wear them.” Nassëtelëa smiled, starting to feel more comfortable. She had to remind herself that not everyone with blonde hair was out to hurt her. She had to remind herself that her sister didn’t want to hurt her, so why should she assume that her future mother-in-law would? Was she so damaged that any mature woman with light skin and white hair frightened her away? She had fought orcs, she had helped her father take care of their people. But she was intimidated no matter how hard she tried to do otherwise. This was a start that she was grateful for.

 

She sat in the garden with her two new birds and her ladies surrounding her as she sweet talked them. She wasn’t used to birds taking to her so, and they were very endearing. She was singing a tune from her home to them and they whistled it back. She laughed and smiled. Keera felt relieved that she had something to take her mind off how slighted she felt for not being automatically invited to something that was so important. She knew the moment her Princess had seen them go into the war meeting she would be furious. But she would rather her not get all worked up about war. She was more ruthless than most and twice as daring as even the most seasoned of generals. It was something that her father loved about her, but Keera wasn’t sure they would feel the same way here. But she was of higher status than everyone in the castle, though she didn’t seem to know it.

Keera saw him long before her Princess did. She bowed to him slightly and he held up a finger to his lips for her to be quiet and she nodded. Nassëtelëa had been right to call him beautiful, for that was exactly what Thranduil was as he stood and watched his future bride telling her new pets how she adored them, watching as they copied her. He almost thought of sending thanks to Gondor, something he normally wouldn’t do for something as simple as a royal gift. But she looked so enchanted by them, and actually joyful rather than nervous. Until she looked up and saw him. He bowed from his post near the wall and she smiled shyly as she rose from her position.

She walked over, the birds fluttering onto her shoulders. Both clung to her and tried to nuzzle her hair through her veil. He noticed how beautifully she was dressed, how different it was from his own culture. His mother never wore anything so elaborate or colorful. No woman he had ever known did, they all wore muted things. She bowed to him, the birds flapping their wings, and her hand flew up to calm them. She noticed that he wasn’t in complicated robes,he was in a more simple and practical state of dress. She desired to be able to wear pants but she couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked no matter what he wore. She tried not to keep her eyes locked with his, and luckily she had the birds as an excuse.

“I see they are quite fond of you and it has only been a day.”

“I fear I have already started to overfeed them and they are rapidly attaching themselves to me so they can have more food. I adore them.”

“I am pleased to hear that you enjoy them. I know this place is difficult to adjust to. Did you have a good meal with my mother?” His smile was making her stricken with some strange urge that she wasn’t all that familiar with. Her sister had talked about what would happen when one was attracted to someone, but she hadn’t ever felt it. All of the men that were under her control had never interested her, she had to lead them not gawk at them. She shooed the birds away and they flew back towards Keera. She adjusted her clothes to not look at him, which thought was endearing.

“Your mother was lovely. I enjoy her company greatly. We bonded over the fact that we both loathe my mother. So it was a pleasant morning.” He raised his brow to her comment about her mother. But he was pleased to hear that she liked his mother, who was kinder than any could  ever be. They started to walk side by side, as she looked off away from him. Part of him wished he could corner her and have her look at him. But he knew it may take her time to get used to the idea of being next to her future husband on a daily basis. When it was a far away danger it was simple to live with. There wasn’t this sense of impending doom that he kept feeling. She had said that he was handsome, but did she mean it or did she crave a dark man from her home? Had she already fallen and love and told him goodbye? It was entirely possible at their age, but he shouldn’t make assumptions. She was in a foreign land with people that she had never met before. And to her, he was possibly the greatest hazard.

“Do you miss Lindon terribly? I have heard that it is much warmer than it is here. And much more colorful and exciting.” She looked at him, in awe of him being considerate for her feelings.

“I miss things about it. I miss my sisters, and of course my father. And I miss my freedom to go as I please and do as I wish. But it is beautiful here and I know that it is my destiny to be here.”

“You feel you do not have freedom here? What makes you feel that way?”

“At home I rode into the wood everyday, without a royal escort. I would attend every meeting my father held. I was able to speak without fear that I would be reprimanded by anyone except my mother. And I did not have to live my life in fear of a man that I have to please or else both of our lives will be miserable.” She instantly wished she had not spoken and looked away, wringing her hands. He took one of her hands and she looked into her eyes, serious and glimmering, his brow focused on her with utter seriousness.

“I would say you could ride into these woods but the Orcs are too close to go alone. And my mother has been working on getting you into our meetings. I have no control over that, and my father is not fond of my opinions. Do not strive to please me, there are far too many people in my life who try to cater to what I want. I would prefer to see you get what you want. I would see you comfortable and happy. And I truly think there is little you could do that would make me miserable. I do not know you, but I would like to.” Her eyes grew wide and she smiled. He smiled back and they continued to walk, her hand still in his. He had surprised her

“I think I would like to know you. But I don’t see where we will have time. The world is collapsing around us. I know they will push for us to be wed.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to make every hour count. Every small, fleeting moment.” Just as they turned again a guard bowed to them. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and knew that they were going to call him away. And they did, telling him his father had to see him at once. So he turned, apologized. He kissed her hand and it made her flesh tingle and she stood as a statue as he strode away. 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

She had not been looking forward to that night. The court was filled with mostly elves that night, most of the others already leaving the moment the sun had risen to get back to their lands, some of them immediately in danger. The Dwarf king had stayed, living in the Iron Hills being too far to go back to when war was on the horizon. The room was filled with elves she did not recognize, many being Silvan, Sindar, or some mix between the two. She sat between the King of the Dwarves and Thranduil again, not far from Oropher and Gilan. But that didn’t stop many of the women from looking over at her and start obviously talking about her. Some of the men openly stared at her, smiling foolishly at each other. She tried not to show how it bothered her that they whispered about her.

Thranduil thought about bringing some of the men across the table within an inch of their lives. They assumed because she didn’t understand them that they were not held accountable. But he could understand them clearly and the way they were talking about her was vulgar. They were making her sound like some kind of exotic delicacy, fetishizing her in a way that angered him. They had to know he could hear them, every word they said making him reel in disgust. And as if those Orcish creatures weren’t bad enough, he could hear what the women were saying. They were harsher in a different way, whispering to each other about every little detail they could think to critique. Every detail of her was wrong according to them. Her hair, her skin, her voice, her eyes. She didn’t deserve him, how dare this foreigner take the best man they had? And they were not bothering to be subtle and they were not bothering to be quiet.

He could see her wringing her hands underneath the table. Well, he thought she was at first, but really she was playing with her new dagger, angrily carving into the wood. If they all hadn’t been so loud they all would have heard her stabbing the table aggressively. The dwarf had noticed her stabbing spree as well. She was so angry. She had tried everything she could think of. She had put on a more appropriate dress, a muted green. She hadn’t worn a veil, no jewelry except for some earrings and her crown. But there they all were clearly talking about her. And no one was rushing to her defense, although she noticed that Thranduil looked very angry. She knew she could never blend in, but she thought she could at least get a little respect.

The dwarf could not speak any of the languages that they were speaking either. They were all speaking Silvan or Sindar, he couldn’t tell which because he didn’t give a fuck. What he did know from the looks on both the Princess’ and the Prince’s faces was that it was about her. She was stabbing the table and he had noticed that she was dressed very differently, more like them. He knew that they were all assholes but he hadn’t thought they would talk about her when she was right there. And she didn’t have to be able to understand to know. And he wasn’t going to allow her to take it lying down. He swung his axe heavily onto the table, leaving a giant split in it. She hadn’t seen him move so Nassëtelëa jumped when she heard the noise and saw his axe through the table.

“Well since no one is going ta speak up, I’m gonna tell ye to shut yer gobs about the Princess. She’s going to be yer Queen so give her some damned respect or your head will end up like this table. Now all o’ ye, shut up!” All were quiet in the room and Nassëtelëa gave him a grand smile and a thank you quietly. He talked to her as everyone started to whisper, telling her that if she had anymore problems to yell at him and he would fix it. He had no problems with seeming rude to these elves since they already thought themselves so much higher than himself. Thranduil was amazed by the dwarf because he had successfully changed the topic, and now all of the lords and ladies at the table were talking in hushed tones about how dwarves were uncivilized. His father was glaring daggers into the dwarf, as though he was far more concerned with the damage to the table than his future wife’s honor, but that wasn’t a surprise to him.

Nassëtelëa got up long before dinner was over, bowing quickly to the King and Queen and turning on her heel to leave. Thranduil’s mother gave him the look that he better follow her. He quickly followed her out of the room, not bothering to bow to his father, who was being a larger ass than normal. Even in shoes that were uncomfortable she could still walk much faster than him when she wanted to. He almost had to run to catch up. He grabbed her hand and she turned around, looking angry and hurt. She tried to jerk her arm away but was unsuccessful.

“What do you want? I just want to go to my room, I’m tired.” This was the first time she had ever felt angry at him. It was only the second day, and she knew it would certainly not be the last. She didn’t know why she had thought he was different from the rest of them, but he had just sat there, knowing they were talking about her. And he just let them say whatever they wanted about her, without even a protest.

“I’m sorry, I should have said something. I thought my father would-”

“Well he didn’t. A dwarf king, who should by all rights hate all of us because of how we talk to them, recognized without being able to speak their languages that they were cruelly talking about me. And he was the one who did something. Perhaps you should spend time with him, you’ll learn something.” She tried to pull again but he wasn’t budging.

“I didn’t know what to do. I’ve never been in that situation before-”

“No I’m sure you haven’t. Perfect, white elf Prince doesn’t have a problem with racism, surprise surprise. Well you’re going have to figure out what to do, because it’s going to happen for the rest of our lives. No matter where people go, I am stared at. I am a commodity for this world, a side show attraction. I couldn’t even tell what they were saying about me. How foolish would I have looked if I tried to stand up for myself. They are your people.” She tried to turn, her eyes watering in frustration and anger. She should be used to this by now. She was used to it, when she and her father went anywhere outside of their home they were both stared at.

“I do not want to repeat what they said about you because it was disgusting, and none of it was true. The men were acting like Orcs and the women were jealous of you. You’re right, I should have done something. And next time I will.” He let go of her hand so she could run away. But she was having a hard time staying angry with him. She remembered the first time she had seen people talk about her and her father she had frozen up, not known what to say or do. Her father said the proper response was stabbing them through the hand. She did not have nearly so much anger built up inside her. She had thought about throwing the knife right into one of the mens’ heads when he started making an obscene gesture at her when Thranduil wasn’t looking. But she had kept herself in check for whatever reason.

“I know that they were being disgusting. You missed some very disgusting gestures, luckily for you,” she whispered. He started to storm back towards the hall, but she grabbed him. It was the first time she touched him, of her own accord. She looked down on the ground, and then back up, “Please don’t. What’s done is done. Can we please just….  Do something else to take our mind off it? I don’t care if we just walk down all the halls. I just need something else to think about.” His anger didn’t subside, and he swore to himself he’d find whatever idiotic elf thought he could get away with that later. He knew that she needed a distraction from life. He did as well. The Orcs were closing in, the war was becoming more real. She didn’t know, but her father was on her way to see them, watch her get married with all of their soldiers. He would be there in only a month or so. Perhaps two months with all of those men moving. He had planned to tell her after dinner but he hadn’t the heart now.

“I know somewhere we can go. Come with me,” he took her hand and they walked down the halls. She started to get nervous when they went through the kitchen, that maybe he knew that was how she snuck out. The servants bowed and Thranduil nodded at them as he passed through the door. But instead of going around the front of the castle to go towards the wood he went out the back. There was a small patch of wood surrounding the river, some stone rocks confining the river. He offered her to sit and lay down with him. She looked at the stars, and noticed how similar the sky was here, maybe one of the only things that she could hold on to. She sighed as she laid down and watched the clouds cover and uncover the moon.

“This is where I come to get away from them all.”

“Why do you need to get away from them? They all adore you, worship the ground you walk on. I can’t imagine why you’d ever want to leave.”

“I need to stay away from all the attention. Being a Prince is daunting for anyone with a brain. Meetings all day. I’m not allowed to spar anymore, or ride, or go into the wood. My father has declared there isn’t the time for it. He thinks that I should love being a Prince, but it exhausts me.”

“I thought you didn’t like to listen to your fathers rules. When did you start?”

“Now who told you that?” He looked over smirked at her, looking proud of himself.

“Tanna told me you like to defy your father at every opportunity. I like to do the same thing but with my mother. I used to parade around in pants because it made her furious. Practiced with the sword, bow, and dagger. That made her even more angry. I skipped lessons and went swimming with my friends instead. Keera and I got caught doing some things that made my mother furious. But it always made my father laugh, so I got away with it.”

“I would still be defying my father as much as I usually do but there is a war coming. I’m defying his wishes right now. He does not think we should spend too much time together. He thinks that it will make me forget my duties.” Nassëtelëa rolled her eyes at him and he laughed.

“Aren’t I one of your biggest duties? If we do not wed, your people will stand no chance against Sauron’s army. Your father really needs to think about his priorities.”

“I agree. But he doesn’t really believe your father won’t send anyone. He believes that your father needs us, which if we look at it financially and politically is not true, as I’ve tried to tell him numerous times. He has a deluded sense of the Sindar people, as most Sindar do I’m afraid. He would hate to admit that we don’t matter in your father’s mind, but if we go it will not be a terrible loss to him.”

“My father will send people, before we even wed. I know him. He’ll be looming over us within a month, waiting to watch us get married. He’ll swoop in with an army and then your father will feel like he was right, poor fool.” Thranduil grinned and they turned their heads back up to the stars. He wondered how she could have so easily she could predict her father’s movements. But she had been his right hand for decades. If anyone knew what he was going to do, it would be her.

“Do you wonder, if we had met a different way, we could have been friends?” He didn’t sound sad, he just sounded curious as he stared up into the abyss.

“We could still be friends. I don’t dislike you. You’re probably one of the only people in this world that I don’t hate. Well, thus far. We’ve only known each other for two days.”

“If it means anything, I don’t hate you either. I truly enjoy your company. It’s the first time I’ve enjoyed anyone for a long time. I’ve been avoiding people for almost a few years now.”

“I heard you sneak off into the wood with a book. I used to go in the wood everyday, no matter what was going on around me I snuck off, night or day. I had friends when I was young. All the girls I grew up with decided I wasn’t feminine. Even my sister started to turn on me after awhile.”

“You are very feminine. I thought you were very feminine since I met you, but also very intimidating. Like you could kill me without a second thought.”

“Now that is cruel. I would give more than two thoughts about it. And if I wanted you dead you would be. I would not kill the only friend I have here. I would miss you as soon as I did it.” She smiled and laughed at him and he gave her a smile too. This wasn’t as bad as he had thought it would be. He couldn’t predict everything she was going to say or do but it was nice. Her company was so pleasant he forgot about everyone else. He didn’t have to think about his father pressuring him to impregnate her as soon as possible to assure the union would stick. He didn’t have to listen to his father tell him how to act. Oropher didn’t act like he wanted Thranduil, he acted like he wanted a slightly younger version of himself. Thranduil had never remembered a time when he wanted to comply with his father’s wishes. He had been disobedient since birth.

He held her hand and she looked over at him. He hadn’t had a chance to notice how her eyes could pull anyone in. They shown in the starlight, and her smile made her glow like moonlight. He was so beautiful and she always felt as though his eyes could bear into her soul and see her darkest secrets. Yet his hand was warm and inviting and she found herself longing to hold his hand more, to give her reassurance. She knew she would not have time to figure out if she could love him before he went to war. There was not enough time. She knew she was attracted to him, and she welcomed his touch. She hoped that would be enough for the beginning of their marriage. She knew of elves who claimed they had known their soulmate from first sight. She could never understand how they could understand a concept just by looking at someone. Their lives were eternal, it was a large decision to get married. If she had a choice she would have taken a hundred years or more to be sure. She was getting only a month or two.

“Do you think Orcs ever think anything intelligent or do they just think about eating?” He burst out laughing at her question. He hadn’t laughed in a long time. Perhaps ever in his life.

“I have no idea. I’ve never given it much thought. What do you think they think about?”

“A lot of eating and for whatever reason evil things like torture and murder. But every once in awhile I like to think that they have one nice thought, and it rots some of their teeth.”

“That’s the most creative depiction of Orcs I have ever heard. I will be sure to ask one some day. I don’t think they will answer but I will try to find out for you.” The stayed there for a long time, not moving much. Neither wanted to get up or go back to reality. And she was starting to be able to steal little glances his way. She saw the way his hair sparkled, how strong his jaw was. She had been attracted to men here or there but she’d shake it off. Usually their personalities would drive her away, they would start talking about taming her. Put her in her place. Thranduil didn’t seem like he would do anything of the kind and the thought made her happy. It was hard to find someone who understood her in the same way her father did.

“Do we have to go back?” She whispered. He grimaced at the thought but sat up.

“As much as I would love to disappear, I think that we are needed in the morning.”

“Am I actually invited to the meeting this time?”

“Yes, I believe you’re the official representative for your father. So, wear whatever you want. No one will say anything it’s a room filled with men. And I’ll be there to help you.”

“And I will be there to help you. Just in case. I have a feeling you and your father don’t get along well with the dwarves in the room.”

“You are right, my father infuriates most of them. And the King of the Iron Hills adores you. We will benefit from having you there.”

“Well at least someone adores me. I’ll have more than just you on my side in that room.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever truly be alone. You are wise and strategic. Usually it’s the humans we have to argue with. Perhaps they’ll be too distracted with your beauty to argue with you.”

“You can only hope. If not, I suppose I can introduce them to my bow. I’m not a very patient woman.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvish translations:  
> Arenal - Princess  
> Atya - Father or Daddy  
> winë vára - dirty baby  
> vára - baby

“ _Arenal_ , you must pick some dress. You will be late and then you will look a fool for sure. Now pick one or I will pick one for you,” Keera was losing her temper with her Princess. No matter how much she wanted to appear in war apparel, she would not be allowed. It was close to war but not close enough. Women had more protocol than men did. They were expected to be beautiful in the eyes of men no matter how ridiculous the idea was. Nassëtelëa hated that she always had to be presented as a bride no matter how dire the situation. She was to attend the meeting in place of her father, something that meant he trusted her with his life. And she would make all of the major decisions for everyone, in her father’s absence.

“Just pick one. I don’t have time for this foolishness.” Keera rolled her eyes and picked the light pink one, and decided against the veil for her. No distracting jewelry, simple braiding in the hair. Keera had been warned about how easily men could be distracted by a woman, although she thought that many underestimated how easily women could also be distracted by other women. But Nassëtelëa could distract anyone. Keera knew that her presence could make any room go silent in distraction, as had happened in a number of war meetings when men had been so transfixed on her that her father had almost murdered everyone in attendance. Nassëtelëa was busy sneaking her dagger onto her person. She knew that she may need it. She had needed it in plenty of war meetings before. Keera put the tiara on her Princess and followed her down the halls as her escort to the meeting but stayed behind as she went inside the room.

Almost everyone had arrived already, Oropher and Thranduil standing at the other end of the room with the Dwarf king. There were many human kings and a few others. She recognized Lord Elrond of Rivendell and Prince Celeborn of Dorianth. She knew that Galadriel must have stayed behind, which was fine with her because she hadn’t much liked her when she had first met her. She noticed that the chair at the head of the table was empty. It reminded her of her father and she realized it must be for her. Her father could not be in attendance, so she would have to take his place. She hadn’t ever done this in a room full of strangers, especially when so few of them could speak her language.

Her father had prepared her. She had to remember that she had been trained for years, that he trusted her to make the right decisions. She sat down at the head of the table and everyone followed suit. She wasn’t used to being surrounded by people who all looked to her. But she tilted her head to all of them. _Atya trusts you. You were made to be a Queen._ She looked around to see if there were any more faces she recognized. Her eyes caught Thranduil’s again, only a few seats away from her. She had almost forgotten that he would be there and she tried not to make eye contact. She didn’t like how beautiful he looked and how distracting he could be. He had smiled at her and she had to correct her line of sight. She tried to look at all the humans that she could smell from her seat. None of the men in that room from the race of men were appealing.

She looked so regal from where he sat. From the moment she strode in, to the instant she sat he had been amazed by her. She was destined to be Queen of every elf, the way she dominated a room, commanded everyone’s attention. He could hardly recognize her compared the girl he had just met. She had been nervous, shy. She had averted his gaze at every turn. He saw that she still did and it made him smile. He was in awe that he could make her nervous, when she could sit at the front of a room filled with men and have such a commanding presence. He caught the way the humans were mesmerized by her, as he himself was captured by her beauty. They all waited for her to speak, but she simply looked at his father to tell her what they all needed.

“Princess Nassëtelëa, in your father’s absence we will need you to carry out the treaty between elves and men. Saurons army is developing at a rapid pace, and we all need to start aiding each other in order to win this war. War will break out within a few months, but we need to make the alliance before your father arrives.”

“Have they attacked Gondor yet? Or Rohan?”

“No, but they are mobilizing enough troops to easily annihilate both countries. If we do

not send aid, they will perish.”

“And we will lose most of our human allies. How large are Sauron’s forces at this moment? Do we have enough to thwart him off at this moment?”

“There are thousands of Orcs and Trolls. Perhaps other beings as well. Without your armies, no one near Sauron will stand a chance. A united front is needed to prevent all of Middle Earth from being destroyed.” Nassëtelëa nodded, grateful that no one was translating for the humans or the dwarves. She knew that it was horrible protocol, but she needed to be caught up on all of the things she had missed. She knew that her father had never trusted Sauron and rightfully so. He had created the rings to control all of them. But she had also learned from her father that she should not trust anyone else, especially not humans. They were filled with greed, succombed easily to temptation. She needed to know if it was worth giving up some of the lives of her people to help them. She hated acting this way, as though mortals did not matter. They did, but as a future Queen she had to think about her people first and foremost.

“I will sign whatever needs to be signed. Tell them that they shall have aid from the elves as soon as possible. I’m certain my father will be here soon enough and will help lead the assault.” Oropher nodded and handed her the papers while he translated for the rest of the room.

“Your father will be here within two months. He left about a month after you. He has an entire army in tow however. Until he arrives you will be standing in his place.” Thranduil knew how much his father hated answering to the Ñoldo, especially Gil-Galad. Whenever his father had mentioned him it was always with a grimace or a sneer. It worried Thranduil that his father may not listen to Nassëtelëa’s orders, as she was a Princess and she was Ñoldo. He knew that his father’s pride and vanity could destroy all of them. He worried because many of the other elves did not look happy to listen to her either, although Celeborn did not seem to mind, though he was incredibly wise even for his age.

Nassëtelëa thought about what the King had just told her. _Atya_ would be there in only two months. She would be married in only two months. She looked up from all the signing at Thranduil. He was still looking at her, even as all the others were talking and preparing to fortify their armies. She knew that it would be soon but her father said that she might have a few years at least. Two months of knowing each other and they would be married for eternity. Or perhaps until one of them died in a battle against Sauron. They would find out soon enough if they would be wed in two months. Perhaps it would be sooner, they were rushing into it so they could rush into battle. She wondered if he was as paralyzed by fear as she was. Although she couldn’t imagine a man would be as afraid of sex as she was. Her mother said that it was supposed to be a wonderful, pleasurable thing for her. Yet there were plenty, including her youngest sister (who was obsessed with humans), who said that the first time hurt, that men did not always care about the pleasure of women, especially when the pleasure of men is so easily obtained. She looked back down at the papers she couldn’t read, as they were drafted in Westron. She should have asked someone else to read them for her to make sure that they didn’t hide anything in them that would be damning, but she trusted that this was about war.

He knew that she had a certain kind of fear of him. A logical fear of men that had come from a lifetime of observing. A fear of the unknown even, something he shared at least. Watching two people who loved each other be married was entirely different than being married to someone that he had only known for three days. And they would only have about two months. Give or take of course, depending on her father’s arrival and how the danger escalated. He knew that his father must be getting nervous, without certain aid from Ñoldor. He could see the fear etched onto his father’s face, the last few years wearing on him. The last few days had weighed on Thranduil, having to think about his impending marriage. Eternity with a woman who may never like him, let alone love him.

While they all laughed and spoke to each other Keera had come in and handed Nassëtelëa two letters. Ealasaid had sent a small pile that had been tied together and Nassëtelëa could already see all of the excited accents in her writing, her thousands of questions about Mirkwood, if she could come and visit anytime soon. She longed for her sisters to visit, but she would likely never see them both at the same time again. At least not until she had two children to ensure that not all of the heirs were in the same place at the same time. Wilwarin’s letter was significantly smaller and looked like she had spilled something on it multiple times while writing it. She knew that her little sister had a need to drink things that would keep her awake constantly for studying and she often gotten them covered with things. She was known to spill beverages and Nassëtelëa and Ealasaid had deemed her the _winë vára_. Although Ealasaid often just called her _vára_ , which Nassëtelëa had considered cruel.

Nassëtelëa had witnessed a human king looking at her in an inappropriate manner for the majority of the event. And she could tell that he was not looking at her face and he had hardly moved at all during the entire meeting. She was unused to men who were so impolite that they blatantly stared at her, especially other Kings that knew how fickle treaties could be. Her temper was rising as though her father were there to shield her from others wrath. She hardly thought as she grabbed the dagger from her thigh and absently threw it towards the man. It cut off a large portion of his hair, which the blade tacked to the wall. Everyone looked up, alarmed.

“Tell that man that my eyes are no where near my breasts, which are not a commodity. And that the next one will go between his eyes,” Nassëtelëa’s voice was tight and she hardly looked at the aftermath as Elrond translated to the rest of the group, making the Dwarves all laugh. Much to her surprise Oropher smiled. It was the first time she had ever seen him smile. Although it was a small one she felt rather accomplished. Thranduil was impressed by her perfect aim. A few centimeters to the left and she would have easily gotten his ear. But she had hardly raised her head when she had thrown it at him. She had kept most of her focus on looking at the pile of letters she had just received.

Oropher had enough of looking at most of their faces that morning and sent them all away, with Nassëtelëa’s permission. That was something he didn’t like anymore than listening to her father, but he dealt with it and went away from all of them. Thranduil stayed behind and walked out with his bride to be as she started to open her letters. She slowly making her way out of the room as most of the men had bolted to eat breakfast. She was more interested in seeing what news her sisters had, whether Wilwarin was already driven mad by their mother yet without her. She could see Thranduil lagging behind and she pulled herself out of her focus to look at him.

“My sisters sent me some letters. Well, based on the pile Ealasaid sent me one hundred and Wilwarin sent me one.” They started to walk out of the room side by side.

“I believe my father was rather impressed with your aim. It is a nearly impossible task these days. Your aim is as deadly as you had led me to believe.” She smiled and kept her eyes in front. She was worried that she liked him a little too much for knowing him only a few days. It was different when one meets friends and instantly likes them very much. There was no force pushing those people to be anything more than friends. She had to remind herself because it didn’t seem real.

“I did not aim to please. I cannot say I am disappointed that I did. I would have taken care of them all if they had decided my honor did not matter to them.”

“You would have battled an entire room of men trained as deadly killers?”

“I represent Ñoldor when I am here. Any disrespect towards me is directed at all of us, including my father. I must deal with that in the manner that he expects. I assumed that you would have aided me, but I was prepared to defeat you as well.”

“With only a dagger? You are very bold.” He felt a rush of terror at a thought he had while listening to her. _I could fall in love with her._ Why did that terrify him? He knew he should be elated for feeling anything for her. She could have arrived and been someone he hated. She continued to astonish him, beguile him. She was everything he had wanted and nothing that his father had hoped for. The second fact alone would have had him jump into bed with her when he was a teen. He now saw that she didn’t care about what others thought of her, what society thought of her. She wasn’t afraid to break the rules as he once was. If he had been sent to her home he would have followed all of the rules no matter how ridiculous. He would not have been in a position of power there, as she now had over all within the Mirkwood. Now he understood why she looked away when he looked at her. The nerves, knowing that you could fall in love with someone, that you could be vulnerable. That frightened him to his core. She had noticed that he stopped smiling and she wondered if it had been something she had said, or if things were starting to weigh on him the way they weighed on her.  

“Perhaps we should eat breakfast. Who knows when we will eat again today,” she remarked, noticing that the Sindar ate significantly less than her people. Her people lived so close to the Hobbits of the Shire. She had enjoyed visiting a few times here and there. They ate just how she liked, many times a day throughout the day. Her father loved the Hobbits, thinking them absolutely perfect. Many of her eating habits were modeled after them and while her mother hadn’t approved her father had. She had only been in the Mirkwood for a few days and she could feel her stomach rumbling constantly. She had Keera sneak her food when other people weren’t around, but she didn’t have many opportunities.

“Do you need a chaperone or is one of the studies fine with you?” She smiled at him.

“If we sneak there fast enough no one will notice that we aren’t escorted. Let’s hurry.” He smiled and she followed him up the stairs and away from the dining halls, filled with commotion that could be heard from anywhere on the first floor of the palace. She could hear some fighting start, presumably between the Dwarves and the humans from the yelling that she could hear. She hoped her friend wasn’t trying to defend her honor. It was likely that they were fighting about something else, as the Dwarves were not very fond of anyone that was in their company, not that she could blame them. Humans that smelled of death and rotting flesh, and racist elves. She couldn’t imagine how it would be a fun party for them. It certainly wasn’t fun for her.

He let her into the room while he spoke with the servant. She wished she could speak with the other elves, missing some of the companionship she had in her home. She knew that if she could speak to the Silvan elves, perhaps some of them would even befriend her. They understood what it was to be marginalized. She couldn’t tell if they understood by the way they looked at her or if they hated her too. She was only able to speak to Tanna. She tried to listen for any words she knew as she sat down. The room was more colorful than the other rooms had been. It was more natural, like the wood. The lights were golden, shimmering onto the floor and walls. It felt more like home than any of the other rooms did. She sat and turned her attention to her letters, trying to block out the feeling of discomfort.

Wilwarin’s letter was short and forthright. She warned of their father’s approach, complained of Ealasaid and their mother. She asked if Nassëtelëa was well, to let her know how she was doing. She didn’t even write long amounts, unlike how she spoke in tedious unpunctuated sentences. Ealasaid was the opposite, hardly speaking in public but writing long letters that were always brimming with questions and small information about her own days. Nassëtelëa struggled to pay attention to her sisters words as she saw Thranduil look for a book. His hands were graceful as he touched the spines, looking for one that he wanted. She wondered if this was one of his own rooms. She could hear her mother’s scream from almost a continent away. She contained her joy at the thought, keeping her smile to herself. She returned to the letters as he sat down. Ealasaid was distraught over her leaving, there was no mistaking the way she wrote. She tried to hide how she missed Nassëtelëa, she pretended to feel at ease now that they did not quarrel on a daily basis. She did not so well hiding her obvious jealousy towards her sister however. She asked thousands of questions, from the table settings to dresses. Nassëtelëa rolled her eyes, deciding she would not answer those questions. Her sister did ask how she was and asked about how she was being treated. Ealasaid could never understand how it was to be like Nassëtelëa or their father, but she did know that it could be horrid. Ealasaid could see her privilege, when their mother and young Wilwarin could not see theirs.

Nassëtelëa detected Thranduil glimpsing at her from his book every so often. She wondered what they should do. _Should we talk?_ She was hardly in a position where she should make conversation. She hadn’t many friends in Lindon. She didn’t trust anyone to truly be her friend once she had come of age. She had her sisters, Keera. Keera was the only one of her age that she spent time with. She had stayed away from others, feeling no need to socialize as Ealasaid did. What could she divulge to anyone really? Most elves would be shocked if they were aware of her friendship with spiders. Many in her social range adored horses and riding while she would prefer to never be on one if she could help it. She wasn’t supposed to speak about archery, sword fighting, or politics. Her mother had been adamant, outlining what ladies were meant to talk about. What women were allowed to speak about was incredibly boring and Nassëtelëa would rather regurgitate on her future father-in-law.

“How do your sisters fair?” She was thankful that he initiated conversation. If he never did they both would have sat in silence for the rest of their lives.

“I could not say how my youngest sister is doing. I know that my mother and Ealasaid must be driving her mad. She is not one for writing. She warns of my fathers approach but I was made aware this morning. Ealasaid is persistent in finding out _exactly_ what color the table settings are. If she could be here in my place she would appear in an instant.” Nassëtelëa rolled her eyes in annoyance. More at the table settings than being where she was. It wasn’t horrible like she knew it could have been. She was starting to become comfortable with her surroundings, she was becoming acquainted with people, although she wished she could openly speak with him. When she was alone with Keera before all of this she would curse and throw daggers at the wall. She hadn’t genuinely laughed in a long time. She couldn’t remember the last time she had tried to make a joke or had even found one funny.

“Once the war is over we will have to send for her. I don’t think it possible to describe every shade of grey in words. Though I have been proven wrong before.” She smiled, keeping most of her thoughts to herself. She wished she could vent about her sister and how inconsiderate she felt she was being. If she wanted this life so badly she should have fought for it. Nassëtelëa would have given anything to be running through her wood. Or to even run through this wood, shooting some Orcs to blow off steam. She knew that war would eat Ealasaid alive, but perhaps it was time for her to learn something other than how to attract men. She knew she was being harsh, but she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by her sisters lack of concern.

“No thank you. She would find someone to marry so that she could stay permanently. My father would never allow it no matter how much she begs. He cannot have two of his heirs near enemy territory. She’ll never know how lucky she is, being coddled by our mother.” Nassëtelëa knew that she shouldn’t have said any of that. Especially to this man that she barely knew. She had kept it inside for so long that it felt good to let it out. She tried to gauge his reaction but he was very difficult to read when he wanted to be. “Forgive me, I should not have said that.”

“You seem to think that I mind you confessing your feelings about your family. Quite the opposite. It gives me a clearer picture of your family and you as well. If it makes you feel more at ease, I don’t care much for my father. He is a racist ass who wishes everyday he could have had a better son and doesn’t make any attempt to hide it from me.” She sighed in relief and he smiled at her.

“My mother loathes me. I truly believe that if she could have gotten away with smothering me as a child she would have gladly. She loves Ealasaid more than she will ever love me. And Ealasaid…. she’s such an entitled, impudent child. She thinks that if she were to marry you instead, all of her problems would be solved. She believes that things and titles can take away her dilemmas. She presumes the world is a caring, loving place when it is truly filled with horrors and destruction.” Nassëtelëa shook her head tiredly. _There I said it_. She felt a small pang of guilt for saying such things about her sister. She loved Ealasaid more than she could ever express. She feared the day when Ealasaid learned the truth about the world.

“Feel better?” He smiled at her when she nodded gratefully. He hardly knew how to talk to her, but he Eru when she had things to say. The feeling of becoming closer to her made him feel strange. _I could fall in love with her_. That thought had echoed in his head all morning. Why had he thought that? He hardly knew her. He had never thought something about any of the female friends he had throughout his life. He knew it was a ridiculous feeling. Many had proclaimed feeling love at first sight, Celebrían being one of them. He had mocked her, telling her it was an absurd feeling. He even felt the closeness he was feeling for Nassëtelëa was happening far too quickly. His mother had told him that feelings could not be controlled, no matter how men tried to contain them. When she spoke freely he felt a supreme feeling of relief. He did not have time to gradually transition from friend to lover, so perhaps his mind was trying to speed through the friend state as quickly as possible. Whatever it was, he found himself liking the feeling, no matter how he tried to analyze it.


End file.
